


I Don't Need A Hero

by MissLittyKitty



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:15:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29860047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLittyKitty/pseuds/MissLittyKitty
Summary: Sometimes, one end is another beginning...





	I Don't Need A Hero

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “I’m not a damsel in distress, I’m a damsel doing damage.” (bolded in story)  
> Warning: 1st person reader, nothing else  
> Word count: 2,255 word  
> A/N: This was written for Kaytees1000FollowerChallenge over on tumbl. Dear @kayteewritessteve I am so, so sorry this took me ages to write. I had more than half of it already written but then with everything corona going on and my mental health taking a turn for the worse during summer, I couldn’t bring myself to write at all. But now, finally, I found a good ending and was able to finish. I hope that you like it even though it’s way, way too late. Big hugs to you.

# I Don’t Need A Hero

Steve let the pen fall out of his hand and, with a sigh, stretched his arms high over his head. Looking up at the clock, he realized with surprise that it was already 9.15 p.m. and therefore after closing time. His gaze went back to the paperwork on his desk which had held his complete attention for the past hour. 

Deciding that he was done for the day, Steve got up. He arched his back to stretch out the muscles while turning to the offices’ windowfront to overlook the training area. 

He counted four of his regulars still finishing up their workout or collecting their bags to head out and one of his instructors, Gabe, cleaning and stowing away equipment. The boxing ring which had been occupied by Bucky and Sam last time he’d checked, was now empty 

A movement at the back of the training area caught his attention and he focused on the person at one of the punching bags. It only took him a few seconds to know he’d never seen her before. 

His lips formed into a crooked smile as he watched her punch and pummel the bag with a lot of determination but not much else. Wondering why none of his staff had at least instructed her with the bare minimum, he headed for the office door and down the stairs. 

His intention of directly approaching the woman was diverted when he passed Gabe at one of the equipment racks. 

“Bucky and Sam already left?” he asked unable to hide his grin. Gabe returned it while shaking his head. 

“Yeah, and both were still alive when they did. And bickering like an old married couple”, Gabe replied while he continued to wipe down one of the benches. “I’m really, truly amazed they’ve not yet seriously injured one another.”

“Nah, they won’t. Deep down, they like each other”, Steve said with a smirk, “at least, that’s what I keep telling myself.”

Gabe threw his head back laughing before he went on to pick up several skipping ropes. Those too received a thorough wipe-down. 

“By the way, what’s the deal with the woman back there?” Steve wanted to know and motioned with one hand to the back of the gym. Gabe hung up the ropes he was holding and closed the locker before he shrugged. 

“Oh man, she walked in a couple minutes past nine, slammed fifty bucks on the counter and asked to just punch something for a few minutes”, he explained, holding up his hands in a ‘Don’t ask me’ kind of gesture. 

“And you just let her?” 

“Sorry, Steve, really but I was already in my close-up routine and got no time to argue. It’s fifty bucks for our coffee fund, man. I didn’t think it would hurt anyone,” Gabe replied and shrugged again. 

“Yeah well, not anyone but her.” Steve rolled his eyes at Gabe and continued his way. He’d just noticed that a) she was wearing a white and blue striped blouse, a black skirt reaching to her knees and high-heeled strappy pumps - in short, clothes entirely not suited for this kind of workout - and, even worse, b) no hand protection whatsoever. If she hadn’t already severely bruised her knuckles, she would in the next few minutes with the way she was going at it. 

Approaching her cautiously from the side to not startle her overly much, he came to a stop right next to the punching bag. 

“Ma’am, are you alright?”

\------

I had no idea how I’d ended up in this place. All I knew was that I’d desperately wanted to get away from my apartment. And on my mad dash, anger started to boil up inside me, growing quickly and evolving into the urgent need to hit something, anything. Hard. 

A gym sign had registered even in my agitated state of mind and I’d simply walked in, put some cash on the counter and asked for a punching bag. 

After that, everything else had faded away. Almost all thoughts had fled my mind, leaving me with the image of him projected onto the punching bag and I’d gone to town. Swinging my fists to punch and pummel his face wearing that unbelievably gentle, stupid ass smile – the last thing I’d seen before running from the apartment with tears blurring my vision. 

I still couldn’t believe how everything had gone downhill. We’d been so happy once, not too long ago even. Where had we taken the wrong turn? And why? But I was tired, so very tired of thinking these thoughts, these never-ending questions which had been going round and round in my head for the past hour.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” 

The voice startled me momentarily and delayed my next punch by a millisecond. But I kept going, letting my fists connect with the bag again and again while mumbling out, “I’m fine.”

“It’s just that…you forgot to use gloves and didn’t even wrap your hands.” 

“It’s fine, I don’t need it”, I replied curtly, concentrating on the target in front of me and simply continuing to hit the bag with as much force as I could muster. Which sadly wasn’t a lot. 

“I could show you how it’s done”, he said, an upbeat tone to his voice. 

Heaving a deep sigh, I stopped my actions and turned toward the intruder. The second I laid eyes on him, recognition set in causing a slight shiver (probably of nerves) to run down my back and my eyes to widen for a moment. 

Then I sighed again and said, ”Listen, thanks for the offer but I don’t need a hero. I’m not a damsel in distress, I…I’m a damsel doing damage, okay?” 

It was his turn to widen his eyes before he had the audacity to smirk and shrug. Putting one hand on his hip, he lifted the other to gesture at nothing while saying, “Sure, go ahead, damage away. But the way I see it, going on like you have, the only thing you’ll really damage is yourself.” 

I stared at him, lost for words, lost for even the tiniest reaction to what he said. Inside my head, his words reverberated around and around, creating an echo but instead of fading away it increased in volume, screaming, and screaming the words “The only thing you’ll really damage is yourself”. 

And I promptly burst into tears. The anger, the rage which had held me up and had kept me going vanished and I felt myself deflate. My sight blurred by tears, I made a grab for something to hold, to keep myself upright and found a forearm – an extraordinarily strong forearm – being offered. 

By touch alone – because I couldn’t see anything through this onslaught of saltwater pouring from my eyes – I managed to find his upper arm and eventually his shoulder to cry on. Which I did for an unknown amount of time. 

\-----

When I’d somewhat calmed down, I noticed that he’d walked me over to one of the benches and had sat down with me there. 

His shirt bore the real signs of my outburst, wet tearstains all along his right shoulder. Heat rose up my neck and I averted my gaze while embarrassedly wiping at the lingering moisture on my cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” I said with a sniffle. “And…well, thank you, I guess.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, withdrawing his arm from around me now that he knew I had calmed down. “Uhm…what brings you here, anyway? Haven’t seen you around before.”

His question made me snort so hard, snot threatened to burst from my nostrils. Blushing even more, I put up my left hand to try and stop the flow. 

Meanwhile, the man…okay, let’s be honest here: I knew who he was, I had recognized him right away…. So, meanwhile, Steve Rogers aka Captain America chuckled and got to his feet to collect some paper towels which he then handed to me. 

Mumbling a soft thank you, I blew my nose and, while I was at it, dried the last spots of tear residue from my cheeks. 

“Who thought to make crying so messy, hu?” I said, more as a statement than a question and Steve chuckled again. 

“Probably the same asshole who invented nosebleeds and asthma”, he replied to my surprise and I burst out laughing. 

“Sounds about right,” I said but felt the grin fading from my lips as his earlier question still hung unanswered in the air between us. I sighed, hoping for the right words to miraculously fall from up high directly onto my tongue but I ended up blurting out,” My marriage fell apart about an hour ago and I was so angry, so frustrated…and I came across this gym and needed to…just hit something.” 

“Oh”, he said, sounding genuinely surprised and when I met his gaze, his eyes held a mixture of embarrassment, pity, and compassion. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Yeah, so am I”, I agreed, felt my shoulders sag again and looked away. For several minutes no on spoke, the only sounds those of the few clients and staff, clattering, footsteps, and in the distance, a shower running. 

My eyes studied the floor, not daring to look up, straying only as far as to where his shoes met the linoleum. 

“How…how long….” He trailed off just as quickly as he’d started to speak. I heard him clear his throat and lifted my gaze just in time to see him rubbing the back of his neck. He’d probably realized his question might come off insensitive. 

I laughed without any real humor behind it and sighed, opting to just answer him anyway,” 7 years, the darned seventh-year itch. How cliché is that?” 

“I can go and beat some sense into your husband,” Steve offered, signaling with a wink that he was joking, and I laughed, really laughed this time. 

“Oh god, no. It’s not…well, he didn’t cheat on me or anything. It’s…we fell apart. Somewhere in the past year we’ve started to drift away from each other.” 

I shrugged my shoulders, my lips forming a half smile before I continued, “And…well, I guess I’m just frustrated because I wasn’t really surprised. I mean when he brought up during dinner today that he wanted to separate…it should’ve come as a surprise. But it didn’t. It didn’t. And that’s when I knew.” 

“What did you know?” he asked, and my gaze met his once again. 

I shrugged again, my smile turning even more lopsided before I heaved a deep sigh. “That there is nothing for me to do but to accept that my marriage is truly over.” 

My voice had taken on a slight tremble, tears once more started to burn behind my eyes. But I bit my lower lip, averted my gaze from his and tried to blink them away. 

“Oh”, Steve said and added, “I’m truly sorry.” 

For lack of a better response, I graced him with another of my grimaced smiles which he mirrored.

“Well, if you ever change your mind, just remember my offer stands.” 

“Which one?” I inquired and upon the confused look on his face, I elaborated, ”Your offer of showing me how to box or to beat up my husband?” 

Was it my imagination or did a slight blush creep across his cheeks when he chuckled and said, “Both, I guess?” 

My smiled widened. “Thank you, Mr. Rogers. I really appreciate it.” 

“Steve. Please call me Steve”, he corrected and held out his hand. “And you are?” 

“I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N”, I told him and took his hind to shake. Yet, the moment his hand closed around mine, I winced, let out a hiss and yelped “Ouch!” 

Steve quickly took my hand into both of his and lifted it up. A small crease appeared on his forehead while he inspected my knuckles and when he met my gaze a few seconds later, the ‘I told you so’ was written all over his features.  


“Don’t”, I warned him and shook my head. “Don’t you dare say, what you want to say. I know, okay?” 

“How can you possibly know what I wanted to say?”

“Oh please”, you groaned, “your expression was screaming it very, very clearly.” 

“Alright, fine”, he laughed, shaking his head. “I won’t say it, but I would recommend an icepack and maybe some arnica gel overnight.”

“Okay, advice taken”, I giggled and gently pulled my hand from between his. “And, well, thank you. For…” 

I trailed off, saw his smile from out of the corner of my eyes. 

“You’re welcome, Y/N. Anytime.” 

“I should get going. So….” I said and motioned toward the exit. 

“Yeah, okay. Have…well, despite everything have a good night then.” 

We smiled at each other once again before I turned and walked toward the door. When there were only a few steps left to reach the front desk, I turned back around and called out, “Hey, Steve? Turns out that I did need a hero after all!” 

The last thing I saw was him throwing back his head laughing and if that didn’t lift my spirits, nothing would. 

Yeah, my words rang true. Maybe it had been fate that I’d chosen this particular gym. Maybe I had really needed a hero tonight.


End file.
